


climb in back (heaven's waiting down on the tracks)

by QueerOnTilMorning



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Car Sex, Closeted Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Safer Sex, Service Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25350907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerOnTilMorning/pseuds/QueerOnTilMorning
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is used to driving all kinds of wealthy, boring assholes, but he actually likes Richie Tozier. So when Richie has a bad night performing, Eddie wants to help.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 48
Kudos: 610





	climb in back (heaven's waiting down on the tracks)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [camerasparring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/camerasparring/gifts).



> Happy (slightly late) birthday to @camerasparring! You are incredibly talented and generous with your gifts. Thank you so much for all your incredible contributions to this fandom! 💖🎈💖🎈💖

Richie Tozier comes out the stage door at exactly the scheduled time, and Eddie knows something's wrong.

He's been driving the comedian around the city for almost a week now, and Tozier is never ready when he's supposed to be. Before shows, he's scrambling to change his shirt, grab something to eat, make last-minute changes to one of his jokes; after shows, he shakes hands, signs autographs, and just shoots the shit with fans, sometimes for hours. Eddie's used to sitting in the car, listening to an audiobook while his client wins friends and influences people. (Trashy horror is his guilty pleasure; this week he's gotten halfway through a terrible but thoroughly enjoyable Bill Denbrough novel.) He doesn't mind at all. Bending to the whims of someone else's schedule is part of the job.

Making friendly conversation with the rich and famous--who are, more often than not, boring, solipsistic assholes--is also part of the job, but Eddie actually likes Richie Tozier. He's considerate and not excessively demanding. He's interested in Eddie's life, especially once they figure out that they both grew up in small Maine towns, less than an hour apart. Richie even went to Jewish summer camp with Eddie's middle school buddy Stan. He's funny, which makes sense given his career, but he gets this sparkle in his eyes when he makes Eddie laugh. It's obvious that he takes personal pride in every single smile he can bring to someone else's face, and Eddie finds that really endearing.

Also, he's cute as hell. Which is, in all honesty, why Eddie is here. He owns the car company; he seldom does the driving himself these days, especially for a big, time-consuming client like Tozier. But Eddie's nursed a little crush on the man ever since he saw him in that movie with the talking turtle, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to meet him in person. He figured he'd see him up close, find out how annoying he is in real life, then hand the assignment off to one of the other drivers.

It's been six days, and Eddie still shows up every afternoon at Richie Tozier's hotel. (It's a pretty nice hotel, not ostentatious, but certainly one of the cleaner and more reputable mid-level options in the city. Eddie wouldn't stay there.) Turns out, Tozier _ is _ annoying in person--but he's also fun, and compelling, and something else that Eddie can't quite name.

And now, at exactly fifteen minutes past the end of his performance, he's flinging himself into Eddie's backseat like someone is chasing him.

Eddie's been doing this job long enough to know when he should drive first and find out where he's going later. He's gliding down the street as soon as Tozier slams the door behind him. Sneaking a glance in the rearview mirror, he sees his passenger rake a nervous hand through his curly hair, then take off his thick glasses to rub his eyes.

"Tough crowd?" Eddie finally asks, keeping his tone light.

"Yeah," says Richie. "You could say that."

Eddie nods and returns his eyes to the road. He doesn't turn in the direction of the hotel; he drives like he's going nowhere in particular, aimlessly circling downtown.

"There was a heckler," Richie says after a few minutes. "Real aggressive. He kept yelling 'faggot' at me."

"Fuck that asshole," Eddie says reflexively. Then he adds, "Pardon my French, if you're a religious man."

Richie laughs. "You know they call me Trashmouth, right? Say whatever the fuck you want."

"Sorry you had to deal with that," Eddie says. "I like to think big cities like this are pretty safe, as homophobia goes, but there are shitty people everywhere."

"I'm not fucking gay, man," Richie says sharply.

Eddie nods. "My mistake," he says, even though he seriously doubts a straight guy would be this upset about being called a homophobic slur. It's none of his business. Still, just to make sure Richie knows where he stands, he adds "I am, though."

"Oh." Richie drums his fingers on his knee. "Sorry."

"Don't be," says Eddie. "I'm pretty happy about it."

Richie laughs. Then his voice gets quiet as he says, "But what if I was?"

"If you were…?"

Eddie looks back in the mirror. Richie Tozier has a wild look in his eyes, one Eddie thinks he recognizes. He's seen it many times, usually right before someone directs him to a bar or a liquor store. It's the look of someone who wants something he shouldn't have, and the shouldn't makes the wanting worse. Someone who knows that a taste is too much when a feast is not enough.

"If I was gay," Richie says. "Where could you take me? Is there someplace around here I could, you know…" He trails off, shakes his head. "Never mind."

Eddie catches his breath, thinking of a dozen things he could say, but Richie's scowling at his hands and he's clearly not done. Eddie waits him out.

"Do you know of anywhere like that?" Richie finally says.

"Somewhere you could pick up a man?" Eddie asks, voice neutral. He flashes his turn signal, changes lanes without hurrying, his head feeling clearer now that he knows where he's going.

"Yeah." This time, when Eddie glances in the rearview, Richie's looking back at him, hard. "If I was gay."

"If you were gay," Eddie says in the same neutral tone, "my first suggestion would be that I park this car somewhere quiet and climb into the backseat with you." His face is impassive, but his knuckles are white on the steering wheel. He never does this. He  _ has never _ done this. He's never so much as  _ flirted _ while on the clock, and if he found out that one of his drivers propositioned a client-- _ in one of his cars-- _ he would probably kill that person and then fire their corpse.

But Eddie's job isn't in danger. Only, perhaps, his sanity.

Richie Tozier's eyes in the rearview are huge and dark. It's hard to tell in the quick blinks of streetlight, but Eddie thinks his face is flushed. Eddie likes it. He wants to make Richie flush more.

"Bet you say that to all the washed-up closet cases," Richie says. His voice is a little too loud.

"Not even slightly."

"Are you--" He clears his throat. "You serious, Kaspbrak?"

"Sure am,  _ Tozier. _ " Eddie focuses on the road. "But I certainly won't insist. There's a bar over on the north end of--"

"Fuck that," Richie says. "Where's a parking lot?"

Eddie allows himself a small smile. His hands relax on the steering wheel with a creak that he wonders if Richie hears.  _ Yes, _ he thinks. This is happening.

Then his pulse shoots into the stratosphere. Holy fuck. This is  _ happening. _

They don't speak as Eddie navigates a web of narrow one-way streets from memory. With every second that passes, Eddie expects Richie to say  _ never mind, just joking, take me to a bar, _ but Richie says nothing. Even though Eddie’s dying to see his face, to scrutinize his expression for hints of what he’s thinking, he doesn’t dare glance at Richie in the rearview again. Eddie’s skin feels hot and stretched tight. If he locks eyes with Richie again, he might pop like a balloon.

Eddie parks the car at the closest quiet spot he can think of, an odd little loading dock that can’t be seen from the street. Trying his best not to either rush or hesitate, he opens the glove compartment and grabs a couple of things he might need, nestled behind the first-aid kit. Then he climbs out and walks around to the back door.

Richie shoves it open before Eddie gets hold of the handle. “Fancy meeting you here,” he says, and pats the leather seat. Eddie smiles and slides in.

Their thighs touch as he pulls the door shut behind him. It’s their first physical contact, and Eddie feels cold, then hot, at the sheer fact of Richie’s body this close. “Hey,” he says softly, and puts a hand on Richie’s knee.

“Is this okay?” Richie blurts.

“It was my idea,” says Eddie. “Is it okay with you?” He tries not to sound like he’ll go home and cry in the shower if Richie decides it isn’t.

"I just meant--I don't want to put pressure on you or anything. Since you work for me, and--"

Eddie yanks his hand back from Richie's leg like it's scalded. "I don't work for you," he snaps. "I own my own _ business _ and you are my _ client.  _ I could fire you tomorrow just as easy as you could fire me, and it wouldn't hurt my bottom line any. So you can just--"

"Hey, hey, whoa! I get it." In the dark, he thinks Richie is smiling. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're mad?"

People have called Eddie a lot of things when he's mad, but he's pretty sure  _ cute _ was never one of them. He's pretty sure he would have remembered  _ cute,  _ especially if it had been delivered with an easy, lopsided grin by a guy whose long legs and big hands make Eddie want to--

He wraps a hand around the back of Richie Tozier's neck and drags him into a kiss.

Richie makes a soft little noise, his mouth pliant under Eddie's, opening for him, allowing him in. Finally, in this moment, Eddie allows himself to realize how badly he wants this, and the understanding as much as the taste of Richie’s tongue startles a moan from him. He melts into Richie, pushing harder, deeper.

Richie buries a hand in Eddie’s hair and grips his waist with the other. He shifts the angle of their kiss, sucking gently on Eddie’s bottom lip. God, the feel of his body, hot and urgent and everywhere, towering over Eddie, surrounding him. Eddie knew he was tall, and broad-shouldered, but he wasn’t expecting how  _ big _ Richie seems now that they’re so close. The man is built like a tree trunk, and Eddie wants to climb him like one.

“C’mere,” Richie mumbles against his lips, and then he’s pulling Eddie into his lap with no apparent effort, pushing his legs  _ wide  _ apart to straddle Richie’s thighs. Eddie can already feel Richie’s cock getting hard through his jeans, and fuck, it’s big too, he can tell.

“I’ve been checking you out all week,” Richie says, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Eddie’s neck. “So cute in your neat little uniform. Made me want to mess you up.”

“Too bad I don’t get to mess you up,” Eddie says. He arches his back, feeling Richie’s growing hardness against his ass. “Looks like someone beat me to it.”

“Oh, you’re  _ mean, _ ” Richie says, delighted.

“I’m just honest,” Eddie says. “And honestly, I’ve wanted you to fuck me since I first laid eyes on you.”

Richie groans at that, his hips pushing up against Eddie as though he can’t help himself. That’s fucking hot, Eddie thinks, the way it feels like Richie can’t resist him. Like he’s trying to fight this, but he wants it too fucking much. “God, Kaspbrak,” Richie murmurs, nipping at Eddie’s shoulder through his sleeve. “Get this off.”

“It’s Eddie,” he says, already halfway out of the uniform jacket.

“Eddie. I like that.” He’s working on unbuttoning his shirt, but Richie is impatient, shoves his hands underneath it, burning against Eddie’s skin. He skims over Eddie’s stomach and chest and rubs a thumb over his nipple. “You’re so fucking hot, Eds.”

“It’s  _ Eddie, _ ” Eddie repeats, “and why am I doing all the fucking work here?” His shirt hangs open, Richie’s hands exploring while he mouths at Eddie's collarbone. "Take this off, what the fuck is this--" He's pulling at the buttons on Richie's hideous Hawaiian shirt when he finally focuses enough to see what exactly the pattern is. In between giant, lurid flowers, the shirt is covered in brightly colored-- "Are these fucking  _ roosters? _ "

"Yeah," Richie says. "Because I love cocks so much."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Impressively stealthy."

"It is, actually." Richie palms a handful of Eddie's ass. "People never call me on it 'cause they think gay men have good taste."

Eddie responds by licking a stripe up Richie's neck to his ear. "You taste pretty good to me," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

Richie grips Eddie’s waist and thrusts his hips upward, letting Eddie feel every inch of his (big, he’s  _ certain _ it’s big now) cock against his ass. “Keep saying shit like that and I’m gonna come in my fucking pants,” he groans. “You have no idea how  _ long _ it’s been.”

“Yeah?” Eddie tangles a hand in Richie’s hair, tilts his head back so their eyes meet. “How long? How long have you been trying to tell yourself you don’t want this?”

Richie licks his lips but doesn’t look away. “Six… no, eight months,” he says. “How about you? How often do you jerk guys off in the back of your car?”

“Never,” says Eddie. “Not in  _ my _ car. Although I worked as a mechanic before I started this company, and there were a few times after closing…”

“Eds, you minx!” Richie’s smile is adorable. “You fucked in your  _ customers’  _ cars?”

“If you ever have an opportunity to have sex in a Lamborghini, and you don't take it, you're an idiot," Eddie says. He pushes Richie's shirt open and drinks in the sight of him, broad and covered in dark hair. "A really goddamn sexy idiot." He runs his hands over Richie's pecs, loving the way his chest hair feels between his fingers. Jesus, if Eddie'd known this was what Richie looked like shirtless, he'd have tried to straddle him  _ days _ ago. "Also, I'm not jerking you off."

"Not yet," Richie agrees. "But hope springs eternal in my dick."

"No," Eddie says patiently, "I want you to fuck me." He points to what he grabbed from the glove compartment--a wrapped condom and a travel-size bottle of lube, lying on the empty seat beside Richie.

"Fuck," whispers Richie.  _ "Here? _ We could go back to my hotel and--"

"Can you think of a heterosexual explanation if someone asks why your driver is coming up to your room?"

Richie scrunches up his face in thought. "No, I guess not." Eddie prepares for the obvious next question--  _ what about your place?-- _ but it doesn't come. Apparently, if Eddie hasn't invited him over yet, that's all Richie needs to know. Which is nice, because explaining that he currently shares his house with his dying mother and her skilled but supremely irritable hospice nurse Myra is not exactly titillating.

"So how about it? Are you going to fuck me in my car or not?" He leans back in Richie's lap, letting him look, thanking his past self for every pull-up he's ever done as Richie's eyes roam over his body.

"Anything, Eds. Whatever you say."

"I say take your fucking pants off." He lifts up on his knees, giving Richie room to comply. As he watches Richie skin out of his jeans, he rubs a hand over the bulge in his own pants. "Christ, I was right," he moans. "You're huge."

“Yeah? You like it?” Richie grips the base of his cock, less like he’s touching himself and more like he’s showing it off to an appreciative audience. Which Eddie definitely is. It’s not freakish or anything, just  _ big _ like the rest of him, long and thick and unmistakably hard, glistening at the tip, nested in more dark curls.

“I  _ want _ it,” Eddie whispers. It hasn’t been nearly as long for him as for Richie, but it’s been long  _ enough, _ especially given all the tension he’s built up over the last month of sharing his house with his mother for the first time in a decade. The lack of privacy, the stress of her declining health--it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, Eddie pushes all that out of his mind and focuses on Richie Tozier’s beautiful dick.

“You can have it, gorgeous,” Richie says, staring up at him with moonlight in his eyes. “You can have whatever you want.”

It takes a little bit of acrobatics for Eddie to get his own pants off while still in Richie’s lap, but that’s what the weekly pilates class is for. Richie’s little gasp makes him tremble. Eddie’s cock might not be as prodigious as Richie’s, but it’s respectable enough not to be dwarfed when Richie wraps his hand around it.

“Want you so fucking bad,” Eddie groans, as Richie strokes slowly down his full length. “Need to ride you.” He puts a hand on Richie’s shoulder for balance while his other feels in the semi-darkness for the little bottle of lube. Richie just gazes, apparently awestruck. He has the prettiest eyes Eddie thinks he’s ever seen.

“Do you want to do it for me?” Eddie says. At that, Richie snaps to attention, almost dropping the bottle in his haste. He slicks his fingers generously, and Eddie lifts up a little to make room for Richie's hand.

“I’ll go slow,” Richie promises. His finger eases between Eddie’s cheeks, slippery and slightly cool.

“Don’t you dare,” Eddie says, and leans in to kiss him again.

Richie’s tongue breaches his mouth just as his finger breaches his asshole, and Eddie moans wantonly at how fucking good it is to be  _ filled. _ Richie’s gentle but confident, making sure Eddie’s relaxed enough before pushing in deeper. Gasping, Eddie writhes against him, his cock already dripping, his whole body frantic.

“More,” he pleads against Richie’s lips. He knows he’s not really ready for more, knows the stretch will be painful, but he wants it too much to be patient. Richie obeys without hesitation. His fingers are thick and strong, and Eddie throws back his head, whining with bliss.

“Fuckin’ look at you,” Richie says. “So fuckin’ ready for it. Can’t believe you’ve never done this before.”

“I’m not normally such a slut,” Eddie says with a laugh. “You’re just really goddamn hot.” It’s too dark to see if Richie blushes, but he bites his lip and looks away. Eddie can’t have that. He cups a hand under Richie’s chin and turns it to face him. “You think I beg for every guy’s dick that gets in my car? I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this bad.”

“Eds,” Richie pants.

“See,” says Eddie. “Can’t even get my name right and I’m still gonna sit on your dick, just because you look so good.” Still holding Richie’s chin, he tips his head back to lick under his jaw.

Richie groans, his fingers curling inside Eddie and wringing a groan from him as well. “Sue me, I like pet names, you horny little tyrant.”

“Oh, you do? What should I call you, then?” He looks down between their bodies where Richie’s cock is leaking effusively into his pubic hair. “Big Dick seems a little obvious.” Richie snorts. “Speaking of which, give me another finger.”

“God, you’re in such a rush,” Richie says. “Important plans later tonight?”

Eddie tries not to think about what’s waiting for him at home. “No,” he says. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be except here.”

“Good,” Richie says, and crooks his fingers again, beckoning Eddie back to this moment, to their bodies pressed together on the soft leather of his backseat. To Richie’s big dark eyes, his wet mouth, the unbearable sweetness of his touch.

Eddie can’t resist bouncing just a little on his fingers, easing himself up, then plunging down to fuck himself on Richie’s hand. His cock slaps against Richie’s stomach as he moves, leaving a shining trail in the dark hair above his belly button.  _ Fuck, _ that feels good. He braces himself with one hand on Richie’s shoulder and the other against the window as he does it again.

“Baby,” he sighs. He sees Richie’s cock jump at that. “Oh, you  _ do  _ like pet names, don’t you?”

“I said!” Richie fumbles to add more lube without pulling his fingers entirely out of Eddie. Then he slides back in with three, their combined width agonizing, exquisite.

“Yeah, sweetheart, just like that,” says Eddie. Richie hisses through his teeth. Grinning with triumph, Eddie reaches out to swipe his thumb over the head of Richie’s cock, gathering the moisture collecting there. His eyes locked on Richie’s, he brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean.

“Please,” says Richie, barely audible.

“You want to fuck me, baby?”

“God, yes.”

Eddie reaches for the condom, but Richie beats him to it. His nose bumps against Eddie’s cheek as he rolls it down the length of his shaft, and they both giggle. Then they’re carefully positioning themselves, Richie turning to stretch out across the backseat while Eddie kneels over him. Eddie splays his hands across Richie’s hairy chest for balance while Richie lines himself up with Eddie’s hole.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

Richie looks beautiful and vulnerable as he says, “Okay.” Eddie takes a deep breath, then lets it out as, in one smooth movement, he sinks all the way down on Richie’s dick.

It’s big. It’s  _ so _ big. He  _ knew  _ it was big, but--Christ, it’s so fucking big. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the feeling of his entire body rearranging itself to make room. “Richie,” he says helplessly.

“Oh, fuck,” Richie says. “I like that even better than baby.”

“Yeah?” Eddie opens his eyes again. “You like me saying your name while you fuck me, Richie?”

“Yeah- _ hhhh, _ ” Richie says, the word dissolving into a breathy moan as Eddie finally begins to move.

“Richie,” he says again. “Richie, my God, Richie, you feel--”

“So fucking good,” Richie agrees. “So fucking tight, Eds, you’re incredible.”

“I wish you weren’t wearing a condom,” Eddie says without thinking. “I wish I could feel you come in me.” Richie’s been lying mostly still, letting Eddie control the depth of his thrusts, but at that he arches, driving up and into the exact spot where Eddie craves him the most. Eddie  _ wails. _

“Fuck,” Richie says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“You better fucking do that again,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. “Christ, fuck--I want your come, I want you to fill me up-- _ ohh, _ ” he sobs as Richie slams into him again. “Want you to ruin my fucking seats, so I can never drive this car again without thinking about how good you fucked me. I want to pick you up tomorrow with your come still leaking out of me.”

“Eds, Eddie, oh fuck, you’re fucking perfect.”

“Yeah, you’d like that? Sitting back here remembering how you pounded my ass, and looking up to catch my eye in the rearview mirror-- _ mmm, fuck-- _ and seeing me  _ squirm _ ‘cause your dick fucking wrecked me, ‘cause I can barely sit down, and I’m still  _ dripping _ with you--fuck, Richie, goddammit--”

Richie’s clawing at every part of Eddie’s body he can reach, frantically trying to stave off his orgasm, to last just a few seconds longer. “Touch me,” Eddie gasps, “get me off, baby, I’m so close.” Richie grabs his cock so hard it almost hurts, jacking him off furiously as he thrusts into Eddie faster and faster, all his former gentleness forgotten.

Eddie’s on fire. He clenches his thighs around Richie, holding on like he’s clinging to a bucking bronco. Underneath him, inside him, burning with him, Richie moans his name. Then his hips snap up one more time, hard enough Eddie thinks it might bruise him, and Richie’s whole body goes rigid for a moment that lasts a thousand years.

Eddie wraps his hand around Richie’s on his own cock and strokes once, following Richie off the cliff. He spurts hot and hard into Richie’s chest hair, then collapses into the mess he’s made.

A long time later, he realizes that Richie is rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re comfy,” Eddie sighs into Richie’s neck.

“I think we kinda trashed your car,” Richie says.

“It’s okay,” says Eddie. “The guy I’m driving tomorrow is a huge perv. I think he’ll be into it.”

“I am so into it,” Richie agrees. “Eds, I’m so fucking into  _ you. _ ”

Eddie presses his lips to Richie’s skin. “You know, it’s really too bad you’re not gay. I know a gay guy who’d be crazy about you.”

“Yeah?” Richie threads his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair. “Maybe I ought to reconsider. Think he’d want to come to my show tomorrow night?”

“Mmhmm,” says Eddie. “And maybe out for a drink afterward?” He fights through his lethargy and reaches for the center console in front of them, flipping it open to reveal the minibar inside. “Somewhere discreet, of course.”

“Of course,” agrees Richie.

Eddie knows they’ll have to let go of each other any minute, that it’s almost time to clean himself up, take Richie back to his hotel, drive himself home. Soon the night will be over. Soon, but not quite yet.


End file.
